


Keeping Appointments

by surlybobbies



Series: Tumblr Quick Fics [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon verse, Ish?? - Freeform, M/M, Sexually Frustrated Dean, frustrated cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 04:51:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11684445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surlybobbies/pseuds/surlybobbies
Summary: Anonymous prompt on Tumblr: "Fuck you." "When?"----"Fuck you, Dean.""Sure, Cas, didn't know you cared.  When do you want me?"





	Keeping Appointments

**Author's Note:**

> This has been on my Tumblr for quite a while, but I figured ao3 might want a little bit of it.

Dean can’t do it anymore. It’s been weeks since Cas has settled in with him and Sam permanently. Weeks of walking into the kitchen to find Cas shirtless at the table, weeks of having to navigate around Cas’s shower habits, weeks of knowing Cas is just across the hallway nestled in a bed just big enough for two - and dammit, Dean can’t do it anymore.

He tried, okay? He tried to deal with it, but it had taken all of three days for all of Dean’s repressed sexual frustration to make itself known. 

“Cas, stop using up all the goddamn hot water!” or “I didn’t give up half my wardrobe for you not to wear a shirt, Cas!” or, when Cas passes by smelling of Dean’s body wash, “Personal fucking space, dude!” 

It hadn’t taken long for Cas to start snapping right back at Dean, who would roll his eyes but otherwise keep his mouth shut. It was easier that way, letting the argument die - after all, he’d already made his intended point: he most definitely did _not_ want to run his hands over every inch of Cas’s body. 

Today, though, Cas walks into the kitchen wearing a black T-shirt and grey sweatpants and it’s exactly what Dean’s seen day in and day out for months now but he’s bruised and battered and tired in more ways than one - so when Cas steals the coffee mug straight from his hands, Dean throws up his hands. 

“Seriously, dude? Get your own.” He steals the mug back, sloshing hot coffee over his hands but refusing to wince. 

Cas narrows his eyes. “You’ve stolen my coffee nearly every morning since I’ve been here. Why is it not acceptable when I do it?” 

Dean takes a big gulp of coffee and sets the mug down with a little more force than necessary. “Because.” 

“Because?” 

“It’s how it is, okay? Personal fucking space.” Dean rolls his eyes and turns to the sink, knowing he’s blowing this out of proportion but knowing he needs to - otherwise… otherwise he’d be saying other things to Cas - worse things, things like how he feels and what he wants to do with Cas and how he hates that Cas keeps his own room with a bed just big enough for two that Dean has never touched a finger to. 

He turns the knob of the faucet roughly and pretends to rinse the mug. It’s silent behind him, but he feels Cas’s stillness. 

“Spit it out, Cas,” he snaps, “Even babies can talk.” He knows he’ll regret it as soon as it leaves his mouth. Then - 

“Fuck you, Dean.” 

It’s not an angry voice. It’s a frustrated voice, helpless, almost, from months waylaid by Cas’s newfound humanity. 

Dean’s a goddamn jerk. But despite the lurch in his gut, all he can say is, “Sure, Cas - didn’t know you cared. When do you want me?” 

The mug slips out of his grasp and bruises the bottom of the sink almost as soon as the words leave his tongue. He whirls around, panicked. 

Cas’s eyes are wide, his cheekbones dusted with red - from anger or from embarrassment, Dean can’t tell, but it can’t possibly compare to the redness creeping up to his own cheeks. 

They’re silent. Dean’s mouth is open and he can’t seem to close it. Cas tries visibly to regain his lost composure, looking away and blinking rapidly. He licks his lips. It’s he who breaks the stunned silence. 

He clears his throat and shuffles from one foot to the other, spreads an open palm in front of him and stares at it. He opens his mouth, shuts it, then opens it again. “I - I always - want you,” he says, eyes darting up to Dean’s than back down again. 

If Dean weren’t standing near the sink he would have sunken to the ground. He holds onto the ledge for support. “Fuck,” he says unhelpfully. 

“Even when you’re a ‘dick,’” Cas supplies, doing the air quotes. “Or when you make up arbitrary rules because you don’t want to be close to me.” 

“Cas,” Dean tries, “That’s - I’m - “ 

“I know you don’t mean it, so I don’t usually argue too much,” Cas continues, “But I get tired of it sometimes.” Then he just _stands_ there and says, “And regarding your last question - I’d like you right now. Five minutes ago, if possible.” He raises both eyebrows. “If you’re still interested, that is.” 

It takes a second. Then it takes another second for Dean to mutter, “Fuck,” and stride to Cas to pull him in by his black T-shirt and kiss him. 

They make it to Cas’s room eventually, where they keep their appointment in a bed just big enough for two.

**Author's Note:**

> There's about 20+ more fics not published here but published on my tumblr - username surlybobbies. Search my "kc fic" tag.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
